The Storm
by aliceann
Summary: A seriously injured Neal fights for his life. Fever, delirium and angst ensue as unguarded truths come to the surface. This was written initially for a prompt on live journal by dmk4 a while back, who wanted just a pure Neal hurt and then comforted fic. Didn't matter who comforted him. It's taken me so long, that I just tied it to post season finale.Possible spoilers, unlikely.
1. Chapter 1

THE STORM

Panic bored through his body as he kept his foot on the accelerator. The lights in his rearview mirror began to fade in the distance. Rain was coming down in horizontal sheets across the windshield. The high beams of the hotwired Monte Carlo danced in the covering night, bouncing off the asphalt road in shimmering bits of light. Finally he lost them as he turned onto the wet gravel pass, brakes skidding.

His grip on the wheel was hampered by the sweat and blood on his hands. His blood. He gunned it, he had to put more distance between him and the men who meant to kill him. This road would lead him to the eastern part of the island and out to the sea, away from the mainland.

All day the radio had been filled with reports of the approaching storm, now upgraded from tropical storm to category two hurricane. The island was battening down. The sound of tree limbs snapping in the gale force winds sounded like gunshots. Much like the one that entered his side while he stood on the dock, waiting for his chance to go home, waiting for redemption, waiting for Peter. He was so close. Mozzie had arranged the meeting, everything was set. Then everything went to hell.

It was getting harder and harder to keep focus, his vision dulled by the pain. He didn't remember driving off the road, the car going over end to end, tumbling until it came to an abrupt stop. The windshield cracked but didn't shatter. He leaned his head down against the steering wheel. The air was thick, different, filled with the smell of mud and palmetto. The island jungle was wilder than usual and strangely beautiful in the fading moonlight. Everything was eerily quiet, even the cicada had taken shelter. The only sound, surf pounding the distant shore.

He was bleeding again. He grabbed his side and checked the wound. Luckily it had been a through and through, just below his right rib cage, no organs involved. He swallowed, pushed at the car door and tumbled out onto the muddy cliff road. Three miles, four maybe to the boat landing, he could make it. He was cold.

_Only those who can't leave behind everything they have ever believed in, can hope to escape_. _And if all else fails, keep a well fueled getaway craft mi amigo._ The words echoed in his head.

Mozzie was good at his word; the small boat was tied right where he said. _Just in case the suit's plans don't go as expected, always have a backup_. He hated to admit it, but Moz had been right. The diesel made him nauseous as he powered up the small craft. If he could make it to the eastern tip, he would be safe, could lay low, heal and regroup. He fumbled for his phone, predictably there was no service. The screen was strangely illuminated in the thick night air; the last number called was to Peter Burke. He held the phone as if all the failures of his life could be erased by one call. The rain was blinding now. The roof of the sky seemed to blend with the water's edge.

He had to work fast to make it over now. The wind was like a battering ram, as waves began crashing over the planked deck. The tide was pushing inland and the small craft was no match. It took all his strength to hold the wheel steady. The storm felt like a weight on him. He had to focus. In his mind he could hear Peter's voice.

_Concentrate, Neal. You can do this._

Squinting into the darkness, he thought he saw something...blinking. He was in the heart of the storm now, strange and mysterious hurricane lights played across the sky and in his head. Was he close to shore? Was it his imagination? Water was pouring into the small cabin. It was knee deep and freezing, when the aging engine stalled and locked in place.

"No, no!"

His fingers trembled as he struggled to turn the ignition over, but it wouldn't budge. It was frozen under his shaking hands.

"Move. For God's sake. Please."

The angry voice of the storm drowned out the drumming of his heart, its low whine swelling to a crescendoing scream that splintered the tiny vessel into the raging sea. Black water surrounded him, pulling him under as he cast wildly and desperately about for something to hold onto. He couldn't tell if his eyes were open or shut. His lungs were on fire from the salty water. He gasped for air as the sea took him under again, pushing and pulling his battered and beaten body. His fingers brushed against something solid, he grabbed hold and was pulled up with it as the next wave swelled.

He scrabbled for purchase hauling himself onto the shattered board all that remained of the vessel. He watched helplessly as his cell phone floated from his pocket and out of his grasp, fingers too cold and tired to hold on. The makeshift raft listed as the winds died down for a minute. He turned onto his back. He wanted to sleep, the blackness tugging at consciousness.

_Wake up Neal. You're running out of time_.

He startled awake, Peter's voice was urgent. Peering into the darkness, he searched for the shore lights. Pain pounded his ribs with every shuddering breath. He had one last push in him. The wind shrieked through his hair and hurt his ears, as the pressure dropped. He felt the wooden board under him creak and groan under the weight of the raging water, and then fall away in a million pieces. He was being dragged down. He kicked and pounded his way to the surface, gasping for air. The pain was unbearable, but if he were to make it he had to swim.

He was a good swimmer. He remembered as a boy his mother taking him to the beach, teaching him the breast stroke. How he took pride in himself when he was able to keep up with her. For a moment he wanted to cry.

_Hang on, Neal. Do you hear me? Take my hand._

He reached for him. There was nothing but icy blackness. Where was Peter? Where was Mozzie? Why didn't they hear the sea calling to him? He wanted to hold on, fight against the darkness below. It was too much. This time he couldn't fight it. The salt water filled his lungs.

"I'm so sorry."

He let go.


	2. Chapter 2

THE STORM

Chapter 1

The sun had been up for hours. It hung unusually low in the morning sky. Turquoise swells moved in and out. Luz loved the beach after a storm. The tides brought in all manner of wondrous and magical treasures from the sea. Once she found a silver charm with the inscription: _To Annie. Forever. Love Rick_. She kept it in a box by the nightstand next to her bed.

She looked down the beach to where her uncle Luis was pulling in what remained of his nets. The hurricane would spell disaster for the men who made their lives from the sea. She felt bad for him; life had not been easy lately. He and Malena barely spoke anymore. She waded into the water, felt the initial tug of a small undertow. Next year she would be thirteen and go to school on the mainland. She hoped she would make friends. She's not good with girls.

"Luz. Don't go out so far." He looked impatient.

She wasn't a baby anymore, when would they figure it out. Anyway, she was a stronger swimmer than him. She closed her eyes and imagined herself with breasts. When she opened them she thought she saw something out in the distance. It was larger than most of the debris that washed up. The tide was pulling it towards her.

At first she couldn't believe her eyes, then it registered. It was a body. She screamed back toward the shore,"Uncle!" She was swimming as hard and as fast as she could. It was a man, his arms and legs rose and fell with each wave. She hooked her arm under his shoulder and tried to keep his head above the foam. Surprisingly, she felt no fear. By this time her uncle was in the water next to her. They got the man to shore. Her uncle was examining him, his hand was on his neck searching for a pulse. He was so still.

"He's not breathing, Luz. Wait here, I am going for help."

"No! We have to help him," she cried. She was more sure of this than anything in her twelve year old existence.

"They taught us CPR in school. If your brain doesn't get oxygen in the first five minutes, you're a vegetable." Her uncle was kneeling in the sand next to her now. With a maturity that shocked them both, Luz started chest compressions. Within minutes the man's eyes blinked open. They were the bluest eyes she'd ever seen, bluer than the ocean, bluer than her blue treasure box she kept on her nightstand. He looked at her as if he knew she would find him.

"What's your name? Luz asked him.

He couldn't speak, his eyes were shimmering with the remnants of the sea.

"He's in shock. We have to move him, I'll get the truck," her uncle said.

Luis was a third generation fisherman. Years of backbreaking work had made him stronger than his wiry frame would suggest. He had the body of a much younger man. He lifted the man with Luz's help onto the back of his truck. Luz will ride with him. A swell of panic formed in his chest, as he pulled off the beach road. The hurricane made a direct hit on the mainland, power was out and all roads in and out were impassable. The only hospital is on the mainland. This man can't die on Luz. Malena will have to help them.

"Malena! Malena!" She didn't realize she was screaming.

"What now, Luz?"

"I found a man in the sea." She knows how childlike and dramatic she sounds. The kind of thing that annoys Malena. But right now she's too scared to pretend she isn't twelve. Malena came to the door and saw Luis with the man.

"My God! What happened Luis?"

"We found this man in the water. He must have gotten caught in the storm. He's very sick. He's in shock."

"He needs to go to the hospital," she said flatly.

"The road to the mainland was washed out by the storm. There's no one else for miles."

"No, Luis. You take him somewhere else. I can't do this."

"Malena, please." He spoke as if he had promised never to ask for her help.

"We can't just let him die!" Luz began to cry. Great heaving sobs. She hadn't planned to, her body was trembling. She and Malena made an unspoken pact to stay away from certain feelings. They both shared a great deal of self discipline in this regard. So it had to have shocked Malena to see her wailing like a baby.

"It's OK, Luz," Malena put her hand on her shoulder. We will help him."

"Where will we put him?" Luis asked as they carried the man into the house.

"He can have my room," Luz offered. She had stopped crying. She ran ahead down the small hallway to the room on the right. It had been her cousin's before he died. Malena's little boy. It still had the stars she painted for him on the ceiling. She hoped the man would like them. She cleared away all her prized possessions and smoothed the sheets. Luis and Malena laid the man on her bed. He moaned softly.

Malena pushes his hair back, slides her palm across his forehead. He's burning hot. She can feel the fever coiling up in him. He wakes momentarily.

A woman is stroking his face, brushing his hair. She seems worried. He tries to smile, to reassure her. He can't. Nothing is working right, it's as if he is dreaming in some foreign language, everything is alien. Is he dying? Something's wrong. He can't breathe.

His back arched and his limbs went rigid, his face drawn into a tight grimace, tiny bits of spittle on his lips. Then his arms and legs began to flail as he thrashed wildly on Luz's rose colored sheets. Malena took his shoulder and tried to hold him down. Suddenly, he cried out.

"What do you want? Don't. Please stop. Stop! Help me. Somebody. I promise I won't say anything."

Luz froze at the sight of the terrified man. Usually considered too young to be of help, she was surprised when Malena said,"Luz, hold his legs." She took his ankle in her shaking hands, and miraculously the man seemed to calm. It was further proof that she was supposed to help him, find him. He was trying to speak.

"Peter?" he whispered.

Who was Peter, she thought he must be someone important to the man. A brother, his father maybe. He was unconscious again.

"Malena, what happened to him?" she asked.

"He had a seizure. His fever is very high. We have to get his temperature down. Luz, bring me a pot and some ice. Hurry."

Having a seizure is scary, really scary. She gathered the supplies and ran down the hallway to them. Malena was undressing the man. As she removed his shirt, she saw the two small wounds in his side. Malena had worked as a nurse aide in the hospital, she knew a gunshot wound when she saw one.

"Luz, go get your uncle Luis."

She wanted to stay, but now found herself exiled to the hallway. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest. Her aunt and uncle talk in hush tones, the way they did when she first came to live with them. Luis went to the kitchen, he came back with more ice. The next trip he carried some of his old clothes and a length of rope. Clearly agitated he runs his hand through his hair. Luz didn't like this at all.

"What are you doing Luis?" Malena asked him.

"I am securing him to the bed. We don't know this man. We don't know who shot him. He could be a criminal. I am not leaving you and Luz in this house alone with him."

"He can barely hold his head up. If he makes it through the night it will be a miracle. Don't you think you're overreacting."

She continued to apply the cold compresses to the man's chest and arms. She would never forgive him for not being there the night their little boy died, Luis thought. He turned and walked away.

"Luz, I'm going into town for supplies and to see if the power is back on the mainland. Listen to your aunt Malena."

Malena is bending over the man, his body shuddering. She doesn't see Luz come in. Her face is kind and soft, as sun streams in through the window. She is beautiful, her dark eyes filled with an unexpected compassion. It makes Luz feel closer to her.

"Is his fever down?" Luz asked softly.

"Yes, but he's lost a lot of blood. He's very weak. I need to dress his wounds, can you hand me that bowl?"

Luz swayed a bit as she looked at the man's side.

"Are you OK Luz?"

"I'm fine." But she wasn't. She wanted to start crying again.


	3. Chapter 3

THE STORM

Chapter 2

"I can take it. Just tell me. I'm not a goddamned kid anymore!" the man cried out to no one in particular.

He was delirious, beads of sweat popped on his forehead. His eyes looked wrong, it worried her. The fever was still raging. How long could his body fight? She could barely feel a pulse at times. He needed medical help. She placed another cool cloth against his skin. He calmed for a moment, his lips moving in a toneless mutter. Luz had finally fallen asleep, curled on a mat at the foot of the bed.

When Luz's parents died, Luis thought it would help her if his niece came to live with them. She needed someone to take care of and Luz needed a home. It was simple for him, but everything in her had pulled apart. There was no easy fix for that. Luz knew, and apparently so did the man lying in her bed. There was grief in his voice.

The man tried to sit up not knowing where he was. The rope Luis used held him. He tried to pull free.

"I'm telling you the truth! Why won't you believe me? I have to leave. I can't stay here!" He struggled against the bindings. His breath coming in ragged gasps as if his body remembered drowning.

Afraid he would reopen his wounds, she stroked his face lightly trying to calm him.

"Shh. It's OK. You're OK."

"Mom?" Her heart contracted.

He paused momentarily as if he was listening to reason. His face was flushed and wild. Then he began to scream. She'd promised herself she would never feel this helpless again. She didn't want this.

Luz bolted upright from her place at the foot of the bed. Malena was crying, her shoulders shaking as she held the man close to her body, running her hands along his back, his head pressed into her shoulder... whispering softly to him. Luz felt she was witnessing something private, something adult,... but could not look away. She stood back, just outside the circle Malena and the man made, unsure what to say, what to do. The man's struggling started to stop, his screams turning to choked sobs. Slowly his body settled and quieted.

The sun had gone down while Luz slept. She wondered what else she missed. She heard her uncle Luis come in. He was back from town, unloading supplies in the kitchen.

Malena laid the man back down gently, and undid the rope. Bright red drops of blood stained Luz's sheets.

"Luz, go and get the bandages from your uncle and more ice." She didn't take her eyes away from the man.

There was a face pulling close to his. A woman, he saw traces of sorrow in her expression. He could feel her hand brush against his abdomen, the coolness of the cloth she held easing his pain. He thought he heard her praying. He didn't want to die.

"You have lost too much blood. I need to clean your wound. Can you hear me? I am going to turn you now." Malena spoke to him.

He could feel the softness of her hands.

"It's all right, it's all right," she cleaned the blood away, ringing the stained cloth out in the small bowl on Luz's nightstand.

His eyes were wide, unfocused as he lay motionless on his side. For a moment she panicked and reached out to shake him. What happened next surprised her, he wrapped his hand around hers, pulled it to his side, squeezed tight and held on. He raised his face up to the light.

"It can't end like this. You can't leave. I'll do anything, whatever you want. Tell me. Don't leave me."

She closed her eyes and remembered. Malena bent forward, her weight against the man. If she could, she would take the heat from his body into hers. No one else would die in this room.

"I won't hurt you, she told him.

"I stayed," he whispered.

"I know you did. Rest now. Sleep."

Luz and her uncle stood in the doorway, for how long she couldn't tell. Clutching the bowl of ice Luz wondered if a boy would ever look at her that way, so desperate, so filled with longing.

Luis was silent. He moved them to this remote spot on the island to be closer to work. To better provide for them now he had become a father. He promised he would be home early that night, Malena was concerned for the child. When he offered to make another fishing run, he had no idea it would be the last night he would ever see his little one.

At the funeral he fell over. He couldn't breathe, he remembered people trying to remove his coat. Malena never cried, her body took on this awful hollowed out quality. He knew one day she would crash, but she never did. Her heart was broken, untouchable. He would settle for that. He would do that for her.

"Malena?" Luz asked.

She seemed surprised to see them standing in the door.

"I have more ice. Will he be all right?"her voice quavering.

"Yes, his fever has broken. But he needs rest."

"Can I stay?

"It's all right," Luis says. "I'll finish putting up the supplies," he turned back down the hallway.

It was hours since Malena had fallen asleep in the chair next to the man. Exhausted, she put up little resistance when Luis came to take her to their bed. Luz on the other hand was wide awake watching over the man.

"Luz, call me if he wakes up. I'll be back to check on you two in a little while."

She nodded approvingly, but felt a tiny bit of resentment creep into her face. After all, she had been the one to find him. She had saved him. If anyone was the hero it was her. He was her responsibility, just because she was twelve didn't mean she was clueless. She sat in her chair and continued with rapt attention to watch him. Her gift from the sea. The light from her lamp fell on him. He seemed peaceful finally. His thick dark hair falling across the angular planes of his face, it was an extraordinary face. Not like the boys she knew on the island, not even like the boys on the mainland who were sophisticated and wore white linen shirts.

She waited for him to wake up, to open his eyes. To tell her what had happened to him.

Luz wanted to know everything about him. How old is he? Where did he come from? Who are the people who shot him? Who was the girl that broke his heart? Did he still love her? Her heart had been broken when her parents died. Everything had hurt from crying. She cried on the plane to the mainland. She cried when they arrived at the island and Malena met them. She cried thru lunch and dinner. She cried for days. It was so unfair.

He was looking at her. He was awake. How could anyone's eyes be so blue, she thought.

"Do you want something to drink?" she asks him.

"Yes," he nodded."I'm thirsty."

His hand is shaky as he tries to hold the glass. She offers to hold it as he takes a few sips. The simple action seems to tire him. His head falls back against the pillow. His eyelids flutter as he begins to drift off. Slightly worried at this development, she thinks she should call Malena. Her shoulders tighten as she stands to go.

"My aunt said to call her when you woke up."

"Don't go," he says.

Her body relaxes, she felt glad that he wanted her and not Malena.

"I'm Luz," she said.

"I'm Neal."

"Do you know where you are?"

He stared at the ceiling and blinked slowly. It was hazy at first, but then he could make out the moon, countless stars and unknown galaxies. He smiled... remembering.

"I'm in the great green room." He lets his eyes close.

Luz suddenly remembers how she used to feel asleep in her bed, surrounded by her stuffed animals and favorite books, safe to know her parents were just across the hall. One day she was a child, the next she wasn't. It made her happy to remember. Neal's smile made her happy. She was absurdly grateful for the stars on her ceiling.

"Goodnight stars. Goodnight Neal."


	4. Chapter 4

THE STORM

Chapter 3

He woke to the smell of coffee and the rhythmic sound of someone's breathing. Luz was curled in a chair next to him, totally unaware in the way children often are when sound asleep. He felt drained and sore. He was wearing another man's clothes; he pulled up on his elbow, cradled his abdomen in his hand and groaned.

The day was already hot. Malena was putting a spoonful of sugar into Luis's cup. The toast was buttered and scrambled eggs were frying up in the cast iron skillet. She had a pot of tea on for the man. He needed fluids. She could hear Luis coming down the hall. Last night he lay close to her in their bed and held her as she wept uncontrollably. She wondered if she would ever be in love with him again. She placed his breakfast on the table and took the hot tea to the man.

"Buenos Dias. It's good to see you awake, she smiled. I'm Malena."

"Gracias, my name is Neal."

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore. I'm afraid I can't remember what happened to me."

"Luz found you in the sea. She saved your life. This is her room," she nodded in the direction of the sleeping girl.

"How did I get here?"

"My husband Luis and Luz brought you here in his truck. The nearest hospital is on the mainland, it took a direct hit from the hurricane. Everything is down. No one's been able to make contact since the storm."

"I have friends there. They will be looking for me," he tried to sit.

"You have to rest. I'm afraid your friends will have to wait."

"I can't... I have to.." but sitting was harder than he thought. He took a quick breath and slumped forward.

"See," her voice was even. She helped him lay back and placed the warm mug in his hands.

"Take this, it's a medicinal tea, it will help with the pain. You need to drink. You lost a lot of blood and your body needs fluids."

Her eyes were dark and candid. She looked at him with a directness that he found a bit disconcerting. The tea felt good, it eased his parched throat.

"I need to take a look at your wounds. Can you turn on your side?"

He felt like a small boy under her hands. He bit his lip as she pulled the bandage away.

"Sorry."

"It's OK."

"Who did this to you?" she frowned as she pressed against his skin. Thankfully there were no traces of blood and the wound was closed. She reached for a fresh bandage as Luz began to stir. He didn't answer.

"It's not my business. It's all right if you don't want to speak about it."

"No, it's not that. I am grateful for everything you and your family have done for me. It's just...I can't stay here. It's not safe, the men who shot me will be looking for me. If they find me here... you all are in danger."

"The roads to the mainland are impassable, no one can get in or out. We are miles away from nowhere. I don't think anyone will be coming for you here. Why are they after you, what do they want?"

"They think I'm dangerous."

"Are you?"

"Only to the people who care about me," he shivered slightly.

She took the mug from his hands, and pulled the covering up for him.

"There's someone I need to contact."

"Peter?" she asked matter of factly.

"How did you…?"

"You called for him most of the night."

"He's a friend. It's complicated."

She continued to put away the bandages and other supplies.

"I am a convicted felon. I stole things. I was serving a four year prison term when the FBI agent who put me there, gave me a second chance…Peter. He got me out on parole to work under him solving white collar crimes. We became friends, as unlikely as that might seem. " He reached for the mug. She poured another cup of tea and sat down on the bed next to him.

"So what went wrong?"

"My past caught up to me and I ran," he closed his eyes. He could still see the look on Peter's face as he gave him the nod to go. He knew what it would cost him. He had become a burden, a weight bringing his friend down. Yet there was no hesitation not one trace of doubt in Peter's face as he stood across from him, signaling him to go.

Malena said nothing. His honesty caught her off guard.

"It wasn't my plan to run. It was Peter's."

"But you went along."

"I did," he drew in a long breath and collected himself. I became a pawn in a dangerous game. Someone in the FBI who wanted to discredit Peter used my past against him. The men who shot me are a part of that. If I stayed, most likely I was going to prison for a very long time, and Peter would lose his job."

"For things you didn't do?"

"No, for crimes I committed."

"I don't know the law, but it sounds like whoever was behind this had good reason."

"I suppose so," the disappointment in her expression made his chest tighten.

Malena can tell he's in pain. The paleness of his skin made his blue eyes even bluer and sadder as she studied him. She was relentless in her questioning. She felt a small bolt of guilt, but she needed to know what kind of man this Neal was. Why him? Why had he been able to live under her hands and not her beautiful boy?

"I was so afraid of going back to prison. I barely survived the first four years, the thought of life behind bars was..." his voice trailed off. He felt lightheaded.

"So you served your time, then."

"Not exactly. There were crimes I was never charged with because they didn't have the proof. I was pretty enterprising. Now they had the proof," he coughed and his body trembled slightly. He wasn't practiced in telling the truth yet, especially bad truths.

"Here, drink this," she offered him more of the warm liquid and two pills from a brown bottle on the nightstand.

"Thank you."

"I was young, arrogant, stupid back then. But more than anything I was angry. The people I trusted most in my life betrayed me and I felt it gave me license." His former life seemed more like a dream to him now or possibly a delirium.

"License to take advantage of people, to hurt them?" She wouldn't let him slip and slide around what he had done.

"I can't change the past, the choices I made. I can only try to move forward , try not to be that person." Being separated from the friends he'd left behind helped him to understand the difference between grief and selfishness. All he wants is to go home.

"And why should anyone trust you now?" she persisted.

"I don't have any guarantees to give, no shiny promises and easy answers. It's easy to think such things, but harder to live them. What I can tell you, my friend is here risking everything for me. He's here to bring me back."

"He had a change of heart?"

"We both did. Running was the wrong thing to do... even if for the right reasons. But in the end neither of us could live with it. It's not who Peter is, or who I want to be. We had to fix things and the only way was to go home. He said I was part of his life for good and for bad. I want that life. I have to go back."

"Even if it means going to prison?"

"Yeah. A life on the run... lived in fear is no life at all, second chances don't come around all that often for people like me. I have the choice. A choice I might have to make every day. with no guarantee I won't fail. It's worth the risk."

Malena was aware her heart was beating faster than a normal heart should beat. Her grief had no form, no tears, no ache... no feeling. It kept her safe. Now this man Luz plucked from the water threatened everything with talk of hope and connection. A man who braved the sea in a storm for a second chance. Last night she prayed for his life, prayed to a God she no longer believed in. Everything was being turned upside down. She closed her eyes.

"Are you all right?" he asked her.

"It was a long night."

"I'm tired," he said hoarsely. His eyes were closing from exhaustion and the effects of the pills. I hope you find what you're looking for?" he said as he drifted off.

She hopes he is right.


	5. Chapter 5

The Storm

Luz dreams she is a little girl again. She is riding with her mom on the train into the city to visit her dad at work. Once a month they meet him for lunch. Her mom smells really good. She's wearing the perfume her dad bought for her birthday. He'll meet them at the station, arms spread. She loves the way her mother's eyes widen.

"Here's my favorite girls," he will say. She never grows tired of hearing it. Her mom is relaxed as the train winds it's way into the city. She climbs into her lap and rests her head against her chest. She can feel the steady beat of her heart.

When she wakes Malena and Neal are deep in conversation. She wonders why Malena doesn't call him by his name. She pretends to still be sleeping. Light is streaming through the window and she squints when Malena shakes her shoulder.

"Luz, time to wake up chica."

"How is Neal?" she asks rubbing her eyes from her alleged sleep. Since she saved him she felt they should be on a first name basis.

"Better, he's better. Breakfast is on the table, juice and french toast."

Neal was asleep under the quilt Malena made for her. His long dark hair partly across his face. Maybe he's dreaming. She knew all along he would be brave. Her stomach hurts as she watches him sleep. She wonders if it's possible to fall in love with someone you don't know.

"Luz, go on. Your breakfast is waiting. Don't forget to change. He'll still be here when you get back."

When she finally goes to the kitchen she stands in the doorway. Malena and uncle Luis talk at the table. He lays his hand on hers, surprisingly she doesn't pull away. They seemed completely natural. She goes in and sits, Malena to one side of her and her uncle to the other. It feels …. like a family. The kitchen smells good and Malena has warmed her french toast. She had forgotten just how hungry she was.

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He was making worms out of Play- Doh on the kitchen table, while his mom was filling the picnic basket. He could barely contain his excitement, he breathes too fast when he gets excited. He tries to hold his breath. He had been waiting all night, he barely ate any dinner. It was his favorite, grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. Now His stomach growled so loud it made his mom laugh. He was surprised when she let him have a chocolate pecan brownie. They were going to the beach. He would surprise her with how good his breast stroke was.

He hoped uncle Frank wasn't coming along. He wasn't really his uncle. He was a friend of his dad's at the police station. Since his dad died he had been coming to see them. He said they needed someone to watch over them. They try and keep their voices low, but sometimes he hears them arguing. He hates when Frank calls him little man and tries to pick him up. His name was Neal and he was four. He wasn't little, he wasn't a baby.

When the knock at the door came, for a moment he thought it might be his dad. His mom told him people didn't come back when they die, they live in our memory. He tries to believe her, but it panics him because it's harder to remember his dad as he gets older. He had a sinking feeling when Frank came in. Frank ruffled his hair and called him little man.

He soon blocks out Frank. He begins to feel better. The beach was crowded. The sun wasn't too bright, the sky was blue, the sand was warm and just right. He had another brownie and two kinds of ice cream. With sticky fingers, he held his mom's hand tightly and pulled her along in the sand so she wouldn't walk next to Frank. He knows he's being bad but he doesn't care. He was happy. That night when the sun went down, Frank carried his bucket, shovels and red truck to the car. Exhausted he lay in his mother's lap, his bare feet dangling in the cool night breeze. He rested his head against her and watched the stars. He would grow up to be a policeman like his dad and he would watch over her, not Frank. His eyelids close as clouds cover the stars, as Frank carries him to the car, as he imagines he's in his fathers arms.

He's hungry when he wakes in Luz's bed.

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Luz watched Malena put away the large stock pot, while she cleaned the dishes. The aroma of the chicken soup filled the room.

"Luz, Luis and I are going out for awhile. Make sure Neal eats this when he wakes up."

Malena called him Neal, she liked this development.

"Malena, are you going to leave uncle Luis? It was out of her mouth before she could pull it back.

"No. What would make you say such a thing?"

"You talked to Neal more than you talked to uncle Luis in months."

"You heard all that?'

"I didn't mean too. I just woke up."

"It's different, Luz."

"How? You have more to say to a stranger than your own husband."

Malena remembers the first time she met Luis. She loved him long before he fell in love with her. She remembers the heat of his skin, how he listened to her when she wasn't making any sense. He made her feel safe.

"Come here Luz, sit," Malena says.

Her face is open, with a strength Luz hadn't seen before. She feels closer to her than anybody. She doesn't know why. Suddenly she regrets what she said.

"Sometimes you are hurt so much, you don't want to feel. You don't want to need someone and be disappointed. You can't see a future."

Luz nodded, even though she was unsure where this was going.

"I've been clinging to the past. It's been my only companion. I thought it would keep me safe but it left no room for anything else, not Luis ...not you. My talk with Neal helped me to see it."

"Because he's brave to go back to his friends and he might have to go back to prison?" Luz asked.

Malena smiled. Luz was growing up so fast, so smart so strong. She laid her hand on hers.

"Yes, because he's risking everything to get back to the people he loves, for a life, for a future. Luis bought this house for our family...he always imagined family. There would be love here. Now our family has changed, but we still have each other. We have you."

Luz let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Now, take this soup and bring it to Neal before it gets cold."

Lately dreams of his childhood invade his sleep. Oddly welcomed from his waking thoughts. He can't paint and the occasional drink had become routine. He rarely left the house now at all. He started out hiding from Kramer, now it seemed he was hiding from the world. Mozzie said he was stockholmed beyond retrieval. He contacted the suit, because apparently wine, women and a kings ransom was no match for indentured servitude he said. He knew Moz would do anything for him.

Luz was delighted to see him awake and siting.

"I brought you soup. I hope your hungry."

"Starving," he smiled.

He had the most beautiful smile. She stood there staring; her face was hot, she must look incredibly stupid.

"Thank you," he took the tray from her hands.

"I'm Luz."

"I know. How could I forget the person who saved me."

He took two bites.

"Luz, this is delicious."

"Malena made it, I helped."

She settled into her chair and watched him finish, her feet tucked beneath her. She wanted to know so much then. Where did he live? Did he have a new girlfriend?

"Were you scared when you got shot? Instead she asks this, unbelievable.

"Not at first, I was too preoccupied with getting away. But yeah, later when I was in the water. Then you found me." There was that incredible smile.

"Uncle Luis thought you were dead. You stopped breathing."

"Do you remember what being dead felt like?"

"No, Luz. Before I woke up, I remember thinking about my friends, Peter, Mozzie... and my mom."

"My mom and dad died. It's why I live here with Malena and my uncle."

"I'm so sorry, Luz."

Luz sees in his eyes that he truly is.

"What happened to them?"

"Plane crash."

"How old were you?"

"Ten. Have you ever had anyone die?"

"Yes, someone that I loved very much too."

"Was it a girl?

"Her name was Kate."

"You talked about her when you were sick."

"I don't remember," he didn't want to. Every time he imagines Kate's death his mind drifts, it makes him feel off balance.

"Did she leave you?"

"I did some awful things, really stupid. But she came back, I think in the end she forgave me."

The room fell silent along with Luz. She though it might suggest she understood. She saw the sadness in his eyes and didn't want him to stop his story. She needed to balance the equation.

"I know what it's like when people go away. It hurts for awhile. Then you forget and it's like it never happened. Then you get mad, because you can't remember and you start saying stupid things so you don't have to be sad."

"Do you think you'll ever fall in love again?"

"I want to. What about you, Luz.?

She thinks about George, he's in her class. His cheekbones are wide and his hair nearly black. He has a dopey smile. George said she was exotic, she had to look it up. She still doesn't know what he means.

"Boys usually don't see me. I"m not exactly on their radar."

"Trust me they will."

He had come under her spell. He couldn't remember feeling so free and unguarded with someone. No man will stand a chance against her one day.

"Are you in love with Peter?

He doesn't stand a chance with her now. The irony of it is the way Luz wanted him to talk, reminds him of Peter. When he met Peter it was a classic example.. immovable object meets irresistible force. Yet somehow they worked. Right now he was out there breaking every rule for him. In his heart of hearts there was no one he trusted more. It changed something in him.

"It's different with Peter, not like with Kate. I don't know."

She didn't know what its like to be in love yet. What are the signs? How do you recognize them? Do your eyes widen like her mother's when she saw her dad or like Neal's when he thought of Peter. She can't stop thinking about her future, a curious mix of impatience and desire.

Is she still living, your mom?" she asked.

He took a long swallow from the glass on his tray. The day he left home, he refused to even look at his mother. On his way out of town, he stopped at the beach. The sun wasn't too bright, the sky was blue and the sand was warm and just right. Suddenly he was crying. He tried to stop, but couldn't. All he hears is the roar of his heart.

"Yes, but I haven't seen her in a very long time. It's complicated."

Luz hates when adults say its complicated. It usually means the end of the conversation. She thought his whole story was wrapped up in that complication, a story she was desperate to hear and he desperately needed to tell.

His stomach was cramping slightly. An overabundance of fluids and soup finally taking a toll on his bladder. A trip to the bathroom was in order as well as a break from the spell Luz cast over him. He stands with effort, a little light headed.

"Luz, where's the bathroom?"

"At the end of the hall," she moves towards him as he wavers slightly. She can hear the front door open, Malena and uncle Luis coming in. Neal stumbles a bit and she reaches out to take some of his weight when she hears an unfamiliar voice.

"Take it easy buddy."

The man's strong arm wraps around Neal's shoulder and takes some of the weight. He has warm brown eyes that look directly into hers, filled with a mixture of relief and gratitude.

"I got him."

Luz gladly accepts his offer. She understands perfectly.

"Peter, you found me," his breathing picks up. He still breathes too fast when he gets excited.

"You okay?"

"I will be."

Malena and uncle Luis approach her. Malena wraps her arm around her waist and smiles. She smells like fresh soap.

Neal will tell his story to Peter now. He was in good hands. She doesn't resent that he has found him too.

The end.


End file.
